In the Dark
by neo154
Summary: Harry Potter; international Quidditch star, gorgeaus, passionate, not ten years older than her...perfect right? Not really, he's married, she's pregnant and she wants his rival. HH HG DG[Rating may go up!]


**My first HP fic so be kind!**

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"This way Mr Potter, that's it," camera flashed, a voice yelled, quills hovered above parchment.

"Give us a smile there Mrs Potter, I'm loving it," a triumphant scream and cheer from a large crowed.

"The camera loves you darlings," an excited snap as ink smudged as it was thrown hastily onto parchment.

The paparazzi crowded in, swarming the Wizarding World's most popular couple until they could barely move. Swamped by cameras and their owners the duo finally made it to a long stretched limo, black in colour; that would bare them away from the excited crowds.

Opening the door for his wife the elegantly dressed lady slipped in quietly, her husband jumping in after and hurriedly shutting the door as the media proceeded to hex the Aurors that barricaded against them to the ground. "Move on driver," he ordered with a harsh bark and a wave of his hand.

"Where to sir?"

"The hotel I think, I could do with some quiet," he replied as he absently looked out of the tinted windows at the ogling photographers just waiting for the window to role down.

"Very good sir," the greying old man that had served the couple for years now nodded and started the engine. Silent by technology, Muggles could be so inventive sometimes.

He heaved a sigh, his chest rising up and down steadily, in taking calming breaths, there were days when he wished he could vanish, just to get away from the insanity that was humanity.

"Are you alright darling?" he looked into his wife's chocolate brown eyes, dazzling with concern, her cherry lips slightly parted and layered with a thin sheen of lip-gloss. Her small pert nose, rosy cheeks and long, wavy chestnut hair that fell down her back and curled around her face in dainty ringlets.

"Yes, I am," he replied bringing one of his hands up to cup her cheek and leaning in to kiss her lips, her eyes slipped shut easily as she was engulfed by the power that was her athletic husband.

The black haired man moved to press a small button on his door panel that caused a black screen to slowly come between him and the prying eyes of the driver, "Circle Roland," he ordered as his wife, as passionate as he, began nipping at his exposed neck.

"Very good sir," the drone like man repeated as he watched in the read-view mirror as the couple overtook each other, he himself sighed and shook his own head, normal…as always.

The sound proofed glass provided ample privacy for the pair as deep emeralds met swimming chocolate, "You're beautiful," he whispered slowly as his lip ghosted over the lobe of her left ear, her cheeks, her mouth and down her long, slender neck.

"Although that is said by many," she wrapped her hands in his abundant hair as his own hands slipped behind her back to tug effortlessly at the fastenings of the elegant dress she wore, "I can help put feel," the straps were rolled down her arms as he dipped his head to caress the softness of her chest, "it's different when you say it."

"You're mine," she nodded in consent to his possessive nature, although it had originally been portrayed that their union was simple for popularities sake, neither was so shallow, there was a bond, love.

"And you mine," then he overtook her, consumed her with a hungry passion only he possessed.

He was Harry Potter, seeker for the English World Team and had lead them to victory on many occasion, profuse waves of silky black hair fell atop his head, a pair of well fitted glasses resting on his nose and the same dazzling emerald eyes as his mother. He was passionate, strong and dedicated…to two things, his sport for which he held high esteem, and his wife; Hermione Granger-Potter.

Hermione Granger had hit the front pages of fashion magazines at 17, born and bread in England she had been schooled at the elegant school, Beauxbaton. Harry already on a national team had fallen in love with her picture and sought her out. Already becoming a world legend as he brought in Death Eater after Death and finally brought about the destruction of the black legend Lord Voldemort it wasn't hard to find people to help.

When they had first met, seventeen years of age, Hermione had scorned him and told him to leave for Harry had been arrogant and naïve, he had left with a promise to peruse her. And so he had, school for him had finished two years prior to her, so on her graduation day who should present her Diploma? Harry Potter.

She had been angered, called him a fool and he had once again left at her bidding with a promise to return. A fashion model, that's what she became, using all her smarts to improve the lives of Wizards and Witches through brightening their world. Harry had come to her after a shooting and literally begged her to give him a chance, with a sigh and frown she had consented and to her surprise enjoyed it.

She eighteen, him twenty they had enjoyed a delightful, and expensive, French restaurant and a Ballet. He had fallen in love with her and didn't take much for her to fall before him as they ended the night with a frantic claiming of each other.

Engage the next year their choice didn't take long to reach the press who were on them in a second, badgering them to marry as soon as possible, they had split up publicly but seen each other in secret, married in privacy and then re-announced themselves to the Wizarding World.

Everyone knew of the two, everyone knew of their love and now the entire world knew that they would be touring Europe's capitals in the next week.

**---**

**The whole point of this fic is that it includes things that are considered morally wrong, such as purgatory, homosexuality, incest, stealing, murder, rape...hopefully it will include these things.**

**Bare in mind this is an AU so there are changes to ages and stuff!**

**Harry Potter = 23**

**Hermione Potter = 21**

**Ginny Weasley = 16**

**Ron Weasley = 19**

**Draco Malfoy = 20**


End file.
